It was the middle of March 2015.
Mel was pregnant. Very pregnant. And we were getting antsy. Her due date had come and gone without any kind of great fanfare. At one point Mel's doctor changed the due date by like three days. He still didn't think this would be that late an arrival for baby number two, and from knowing what we know about how childbirth goes the second time around, I wouldn't say we were overly concerned about how long things were taking. So we went ahead and packed up some hospital bags so that way as soon as things started to happen, we'd be ready to go.
And then, we waited.
And waited some more.
And some more.
And then waited some more after that. Five days later, still no baby.
And then at about 10 PM (Editor's note: I'm sure as the years go on the time and weather conditions for this tale will alter dramatically. By 2030 it may be almost midnight in the middle of a hurricane) on the night of March 20th, Mel started having contractions. Yes! It's time. We woke Maddie up, dropped her off at my parents, and knowing this would be one of the last meals we would eat outside of a hospital room for a little while, did what all married couples on the way to the hospital to have a baby do and stopped to get some Whataburger. It was delicious, I'd be lying if I didn't say that the fact that we would be welcoming a brand new baby girl into our arms soon made it taste that much better.
Then we got to the hospital. This is where the fun begins.
Our regular doctor was not on call this particular weekend, and since Mel wasn't dilated enough yet to to start doing some pushing or anything - guess what? More waiting. All the while the contractions she was suffering through were getting closer and closer together.
Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Do not get a baby.
Before I go any further, I should issue a brief side commentary about things at this point: As you can imagine, this sucked. Like this really, really sucked. This really sucked for both of us, but mainly for Mel. I'm not even exaggerating anything by telling you that I've never felt a more terrible amount of sympathy for a human being than I did for her that night, in that examination room, waiting for something - anything - to happen.
Now, it's after midnight. And we're both tired. Tired of nothing happening, tired of looking around at the same stupid room we've been in for awhile now, tired of the clock on the wall seeming to tick by slower.......and slower.........and.........slow........er......with every second.
Finally, after calling the on-call doctor for the weekend and conferring, a nurse finally came in sometime after 2 o'clock in the morning to tell us "sorry, there's nothing we can do for you tonight" and sent us home.
Just like that. Welp, see ya later.
On what I like to refer to as the "Drive Of Shame" on the way home, we needlessly stopped at a Walmart in the wee hours of the morning looking for some pain relieving medication in hopes it might ease some of Mel's pain. Yeah that didn't work out too well.
Back at home now, tired and angry and over emotional about the world, we both tried to find some way to get some sleep. More importantly, Mel had to find a way to get some rest with contractions occurring every two minutes.
Then finally, at about 6 AM the following morning we both decided, screw this crap. We're going back to that dang hospital and pushing out a baby. Today.
Thankfully, at this point all systems were go, and in early afternoon - we were blessed with this tiny little bundle of joy you see below:
So uh, hey we have two kids now! Both of them technically toddlers! How is this possible?
A day with both of these girls up and on the go can be..........I don't know.......you pick an adjective. Exhausting. Frustrating. Hilarious? Yes, all of the above. But one of the biggest joys we get in life is from watching these two little girls learn, play, laugh, and grow up together.
Happy belated birthday, little girl. You are such a blessing to all of our lives.